the other night she
said it: "the sandest of whites"
best phrase ever, man
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
tofutti break!
coming back in from a break
I saw a guy
on the other side of the locked door
jogging suit
cell phone to his ear
cute little planner and other stuff
balanced in his hands
in the crook of his arm
he didn’t open the door for me but
I chalked it up to having his hands full
I waved my fob in front of the
magnetic reader
opened the door
wiped my feet
looking down at the ground I overheard,
“I didn’t tell you about my flight back.
I sat next to these two girls.
Twins from the Caymans.”
as he backed out the door behind me
I saw a guy
on the other side of the locked door
jogging suit
cell phone to his ear
cute little planner and other stuff
balanced in his hands
in the crook of his arm
he didn’t open the door for me but
I chalked it up to having his hands full
I waved my fob in front of the
magnetic reader
opened the door
wiped my feet
looking down at the ground I overheard,
“I didn’t tell you about my flight back.
I sat next to these two girls.
Twins from the Caymans.”
as he backed out the door behind me
Saturday, June 4, 2011
fair weather smoker
spring is the season
i'm lighting up in the sun
it embraces me
always channeling
someone through this aftertaste
of green beans and tar
that leaf looks like a
dried-up slug and this one looks
like a child's lost glove
empty parking lot
is my home away from home
please text me, loved ones
hold my right side up
the left side took on more tan
in the sun last week
wore a cowboy hat
i bought from a walmart in
rural washington
we drove curved highways
held on for life as she jerked
the wheel either way
at the time i wished
we would veer into heavy
traffic and burn up
over so quickly
only our memories are
hanging in hot air
got home after all
shame, but i'm disappointed
to find we're still here
i'm lighting up in the sun
it embraces me
always channeling
someone through this aftertaste
of green beans and tar
that leaf looks like a
dried-up slug and this one looks
like a child's lost glove
empty parking lot
is my home away from home
please text me, loved ones
hold my right side up
the left side took on more tan
in the sun last week
wore a cowboy hat
i bought from a walmart in
rural washington
we drove curved highways
held on for life as she jerked
the wheel either way
at the time i wished
we would veer into heavy
traffic and burn up
over so quickly
only our memories are
hanging in hot air
got home after all
shame, but i'm disappointed
to find we're still here
fucking blogger ate my poem
blowguns sending messages and bullets
across a busy street
open sign
flickers
bartender flips a coaster...
and that's all i remember
from a minute ago
thats why i type this here
why i hit publish
fell down a stairwell
in my ER dreams
brought back some more:
making the most of this
shimmering overhead
stepping onto a breezy porch
waiting for the light to fall out
around us
like tiny leaves from some manicured bush
a cyclone whips them like
white trash snow
up into your car window
they will form a new stereo
or patch up rusted pockets
fuel your ride from home to milwaukie and back again
across a busy street
open sign
flickers
bartender flips a coaster...
and that's all i remember
from a minute ago
thats why i type this here
why i hit publish
fell down a stairwell
in my ER dreams
brought back some more:
making the most of this
shimmering overhead
stepping onto a breezy porch
waiting for the light to fall out
around us
like tiny leaves from some manicured bush
a cyclone whips them like
white trash snow
up into your car window
they will form a new stereo
or patch up rusted pockets
fuel your ride from home to milwaukie and back again
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